


bite that tattoo on your shoulder

by inlovewithnight



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Corset Piercing, Gen, Kinky Gen, Needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: This isn’t how the season was supposed to go.





	

This isn’t how the season was supposed to go.

Jamie knows a bad start isn’t the same as a bad year, and he knows it doesn’t mean he’s a bad captain. He also knows that he can’t skate a full practice schedule, and that he needs a full recovery day after a game, and that he _hurts_ , like, all the fucking time. He knows he’s not contributing 100%. Which means that, even if the bad start isn’t his fault, he isn’t helping, either.

It follows him around like a little dog, only little dogs are cute and constant fucking worrying _sucks_. He can’t even get a scene in to get a little relief that way, because nobody on the team is going to agree to step up and flog the guy who’s already hobbling off the ice and spending half his time with the trainers. Having a sub captain isn’t a big deal anymore, so at least they’re not demanding he step down because he can’t _handle it _… but they also respect him too much to fuck him up.__

__Right now he’d almost welcome a belligerent rookie dom throwing a challenge at him. In reality he’d have to stand up for himself, but he can fantasize about going down easy. Being hurt good and sweet, put in his place, not have the responsibility on his shoulders and the worry in his gut anymore._ _

__He knows that Sharpy and Spezza are watching him all the time. They’re wearing the A’s, this year, and they’re both doms, so by protocol he should go to them first with his needs. He’s thought about it. But right now they would both refuse him, and he can’t stand the thought of it. Being turned down sucks and being turned down gently out of care and respect sucks _more_._ _

__He’s into pain, not humiliation. Especially the non-deliberate, not-even-trying-to-be-sexy kind._ _

__The tension ratchets up higher and higher, until it’s an all-day-every-day painful knot in his chest. They fuck up another road game, it’s awful, the locker room is a silent fucking graveyard. The coaches even act like they’re all fucking dead. Low voices and careful pauses and _We’ll talk about it tomorrow at the meeting. Don’t be late to the plane. Let’s just get headed home.__ _

__Jamie peels his gear off and drags himself to the shower. He stands there for a while with his head tipped back, daring the universe to drown him on the spot. No luck, so he drags himself back to his stall again._ _

__“How you holding up, Chubbs?” Sharpy’s voice is low, like the coaches’. Careful and testing. Jamie doesn’t want to be tested._ _

__“I feel great, Patrick.” Jamie grabs a clean t-shirt and pulls it on, trying to ignore the spike of pain. “I’m a fucking mess who’s barely even part of the team, definitely not leading it, and it’s totally fucking showing, so I’m doing great, really great. How are you?”_ _

__Sharpy sighs and leans down to lace up his shoes. “You’re part of the team, Jamie.”_ _

__“Whatever.” He looks up just in time to catch Sharpy and Spezz looking at each other, that knowing look and the little eye-roll, like they have dad-magic or something. Jamie doesn’t need them to be his dads. He doesn’t need them at all._ _

__“We should talk,” Sharpy says._ _

__“I don’t want to talk.” Jamie fumbles around for his suit trousers; getting them on hurts, too. Moving hurts. Another recovery day, more failure to lead his team, awesome._ _

__“I know you don’t want to talk. You _want_ me to cuff you to the wall and whip you til your knees give out.”_ _

__He says it so calmly, like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t make Jamie’s knees shake a little right here and now. “But you won’t do that, will you?”_ _

__Sharpy just keeps _looking_ at him like that, like Jamie’s a kinda disappointing kid but Sharpy still cares about him. It makes Jamie’s skin feel all hot and prickly and he hates it. Or he hates that he loves it. Something._ _

__“You know he can’t,” Spezz says, and Jamie scowls at both of them. “Be reasonable, dude. If he touched you with a crop you’d be crying for days.”_ _

__“That’s the point.”_ _

__Spezza rolls his eyes. “Crying in the not-fun way.”_ _

__“No such thing,” Jamie mumbles, even though they all know he’s lying. He slips his dress shirt on and buttons it carefully, all the way to the top. “Anyway, whatever. I know. I’m fine.”_ _

__“You’re not fine.” Sharpy slips his jacket on, doing that _thing_ with his shoulders that makes it fall into place so neat and cool. Jamie can never quite make that work. Tyler can do it too, and sometimes Jordie even pulls it off, but Jamie’s always just… awkward. Bad at it, like he’s bad at being captain, and bad at being a sub, and just…_ _

__“There’s other stuff besides a beating, Captain.” Sharpy winks at him, and Jamie’s knees waver a little again. He definitely bites his lip like an idiot._ _

__“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Spezza says firmly. “Right now everybody needs to hustle or we’re gonna delay the plane.” He raises his voice, enough to carry out of their conversation and across the room to the showers, where at least one more body is still splashing around. “Bus call’s in ten, anybody who ends up taking a taxi to the airport is gonna be paying out big time.”_ _

__Jamie hasn’t fucked _that_ up since Tyler’s first year in Dallas, when they thought they had time to say hi to his buddy Freddy in Boston when they really, really didn’t. He swore that night to never do it again, and he’s not gonna mess up now._ _

__Besides, he needs to sit quiet so he can think about what Sharpy and Spezza are hinting at. Hopefully it’s something good, and nice, that hurts a lot. Something that can mess him up enough to shut up his head without, like, _messing him up_ in the body. He can’t decide what that could be, but god, he wants to find out._ _

__**_ _

__Jamie spends the next day’s practice with the trainers, doing some maintenance exercises under supervision and then being checked out all over. He likes the training staff, and knows they just want him to take care of himself, but still, this sucks. He wants to be skating._ _

__He goes to the after-practice debrief, and the film viewing session, so at least he’s not totally left out. He catches Sharpy looking at him a lot, calm and steady. It makes Jamie shiver a little. He still hasn’t figured out what Sharpy might have in mind, and thinking about it’s keeping him pretty jazzed up. He’d thought about it the whole plane ride and then in bed once he got home, working himself with one hand while he pressed the fingers of the other into one of the sore places in his abdomen. It was good enough to make him come twice._ _

__After film, the team breaks up into a few groups. Some guys are putting in an extra weight day, some are headed home, a few are talking about seeing a movie. Jamie hangs back in the film room and waits for Sharpy and Spezza to tell him what to do. Maybe they’ll do it right here at the practice facility; there are a couple of rooms set up for play. Or maybe they’ll go back to Sharpy’s house, which is big and full of light. Jamie knows Sharpy likes to look at who he’s playing with, likes to see everything in vivid detail. It gets him hard._ _

__They probably can’t go to Spezza’s house, the littlest one is still at home. Jamie bites at his lower lip and bounces on his toes, wishing Sharpy would stop talking to Hamhuis at the door and come back to get him. He’s _ready_. He wants. _ _

__“Hey.” Spezza comes up behind him and claps him on the back while he’s watching Sharpy. Jamie jerks and almost falls, but Spezza’s hand tightens on him, the pressure reassuring enough that he leans into it. Yeah. This is good._ _

__“We’re gonna go down to the trainer’s rooms,” Spezza murmurs in his ear. Sharpy and Hamhuis are _still_ talking, but now Jamie can see that Sharpy’s watching him from the corner of his eye. Sharpy and Spezza are way out ahead of him. They started the game before he even knew._ _

__“Why there?” he asks, letting Spezza steer him toward the door._ _

__“Need somewhere nice and clean.”_ _

__Jamie frowns a little, not pulling away but not going quite as easily either. “Is it a medical game? I don’t like that.”_ _

__“Nope.” He gets another reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, bud. We just want a clean space, that’s all.”_ _

__Jamie keeps worrying at the idea in his head while they walk down the hall. Clean, okay. Don’t need cleanliness for spanking, so not that. Maybe they’re gonna make him crawl and lick the floor. That’s more humiliating than he really likes, but if they make it a task, where if he does certain stuff he earns something good, that would be okay. He does like to earn things, and work hard._ _

__Spezza squeezes his shoulder again and shakes him a little. “You’re thinking too much. Relax.”_ _

__“I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”_ _

__“You don’t have to figure it out. You just have to trust us, okay?”_ _

__“Oh.” Right, of course, fucking… trust his doms. Turn himself over to them. He can’t even do _this_ right. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”_ _

__“It’s okay.” Spezza opens the door to the trainers’ exam room with his free hand and guides Jamie through it, giving him a little smile. “It’s been a while since you got to go under. You’ll get there.”_ _

__The exam table is sitting in the center of the room, with a chair pulled up beside it. Spezza lets go of Jamie to pull a fresh layer of paper down the length of the table from the roll at one end. “Get undressed,” he says, making sure it’s covering everything neatly. “Then get up here and lie face down.”_ _

__“I don’t like playing medical stuff.” Jamie knows he said that already, he knows he’s still being argumentative and bad, but he just… he isn’t sure Spezz is _listening_ , he needs to be really sure, because if he has to safeword out of letting his A’s help him that’s really going to suck._ _

__He’s braced for Spezz to be annoyed with him, but instead Spezz just moves away from the table and comes over to rest his hands on Jamie’s shoulders and look him in the eye._ _

__“I know you don’t,” he says gently. “We both know. You trust us, right, Jamie? Trust us to take good care of you? That’s all we want to do here. Sharpy came up with an idea that’ll let you get out of your head for a while without putting strain on where you’re sore. You trust us to do that?”_ _

__Him saying it like that makes Jamie feel a lot better. His shoulders loosen up all on their own and drop under Spezza’s touch. “Yeah. Course I do.”_ _

__“Okay.” Spezz smiles at him. “Now get undressed and get on the table. Don’t make me ask again.”_ _

__Jamie does as he’s told, stripping down to naked and climbing up to lie face down on the table, resting his closed eyes on his crossed forearms. The pressure makes sparkles float against his eyelids, like he’s flying in space or something. He can only keep it up for a minute, though, before he has to shift so his forehead is taking the pressure and he’s staring down at the paper covering the table._ _

__He hears the door swing open and footsteps coming in, then Sharpy’s voice. “Okay, got everything all sterilized and ready to go. Glove up, Spezz.”_ _

__Jamie wants to look, but nobody said he could, so he just lies still and waits. He hears both of them moving around, and then someone comes up close to his head, blocking the little bit of light that was getting in around his arm. “Hey, Benny,” Sharpy says, his voice low and warm. Jamie’s whole body relaxes more, hearing it. Yeah, he definitely trusts these two to dom him. They’ll do a good job and he’ll feel so much better._ _

__“Hey,” he mumbles belatedly. “Spezz said you came up with an idea.”_ _

__“I did. I think you’re gonna like it. It’s gonna hurt, you ready for that?”_ _

__“Uh huh.” Jamie nods and squirms against the table, trying to find a position that’ll let his dick chub up without pinching it. “How’s it going to hurt?”_ _

__“Lots of little sharp pains, then some longer more dull ones, then finally a really long one that’s going to hurt a lot, up and down your whole back.”_ _

__Jamie loves how Sharpy explains things. He can picture that, like he’s looking at a drawing of himself and it lights up where the pain’s going to be. He can’t imagine what they’re going to be doing to _make_ that pain, but he trusts them. It’ll go okay._ _

__He nods and shifts some more, then gasps when someone’s hand slides under his belly and guides his dick into a better position. “Oh! Th-thank you.”_ _

__Someone ruffles his hair, gently, like they’re petting him. He loves that, they _know_ he loves that, but only like this, only when he’s playing. “You’re welcome,” Sharpy says. “Spezz, keep him relaxed for a minute.”_ _

__Spezz does that by petting him and talking to him, low and steady. It’s nothing important at all, just gentle compliments and a little bit of teasing. Once or twice he pinches the skin at Jamie’s shoulder and biceps, just enough to sting. Jamie’s already starting to feel like he’s floating when something cool touches his back. First there’s a cool wipe from his shoulders to his hips, over and over until it’s covered all the skin. He can smell alcohol from that, and it makes sense; they wanted a clean room, he’s gotta be clean, too._ _

__The next thing is harder to place. It’s just a light touch, then gone again, then back again in close to but not quite the same place. Then again farther away, then another close to _that_ one, on and on. The smell of marker ink hits his nose just as he’s starting to get distracted by trying to figure it out. Sharpy’s making marks on his back for something. Guiding dots._ _

__Spezz’s fingers card through his hair and he hears the cap snap back onto the marker. He floats for another minute, waiting, and then the first sharp hot burst of pain goes through his back._ _

__It takes a minute to sort it out—shallow, just the skin, up high on his back, right where Sharpy started with the dots. Right, that makes sense. Sharp shallow pain, through the skin—a needle? And then Sharpy’s hands and the needle are moving, turning and sliding the metal, and it _hurts_ , he gasps against his arms, Spezza’s hands are steady on his head, he feels the tension shift in the needle, and—_ _

__The tension eases away. There’s still a stunning bright spot of pain in his back, and he can feel the metal running _through_ it, but it’s just sitting now, not connected to anything else. _ _

__“One down,” Sharpy says, his voice warm with affection. He rubs a little circle at the base of Jamie’s spine. “Nineteen to go.”_ _

__Jamie’s whole body jerks. That’s—that’s so much, but now he has a number to count to, something to focus on, just like when he’s in the weight room._ _

__The needle goes in again about an inch below the first place, and there’s the same series of pain, metal shifting and tugging, tension shifting, then release, and he has another _something_ in his skin, holding a place. Sharpy moves an inch down and does it again, then two more times after that, five pierced places in a column running down his back, off to one side._ _

__Then Sharpy goes back to the top and does it again, an inch and a half closer to the center of his back. Five piercings, neatly in a line._ _

__Then _again_ , another inch and a half over. And _again_. _ _

__Jamie’s shaking when the twentieth one is placed. All the glowing points of pain in his back have fused into a single blur, and he feels it like a weight resting on him, holding him to the table. Sweat is dripping off his forehead and running down his arms; Spezz keeps gently brushing his hair back and wiping at him with a towel, but it isn’t helping much because he can’t lift his head and let Spezz get at his face. Control of his body like that is a million miles away._ _

__“Okay,” Sharpy says, touching his hip. “You did so good. You want to see what it looks like?”_ _

__Jamie can’t answer, either, but he moves his head a little and Sharpy pats him again like he gets it. He moves around, there’s the snap of him taking his gloves off, and then a different snap, the one of a cell phone camera. Spezz gently guides Jamie’s head up for him, supporting his chin with his hand, and Jamie blinks heavily until Sharpy’s phone screen comes into focus._ _

__Four neat columns of five rings each run down his skin, each one held closed with a round metal bead. There’s blood seeping up around all of them, streaked here and there on his skin where Sharpy’s hand brushed against it. There’s already swelling visible around the first few, red and angry._ _

__It’s weird and beautiful. He blinks at it a few more times and lowers his head again. “W-wow.”_ _

__He feels Sharpy’s hand settle in his hair, petting gently, just like Spezz. “You know what I’m gonna do next?”_ _

__“What.”_ _

__“I’m gonna make it pretty. Thread ribbons through the rings and tie them off.” His fingers catch in Jamie’s hair and tug, less gently. “That’s gonna pull on them, you know.”_ _

__Jamie nods, testing the tension of Sharpy’s fingers in his hair. “Uh huh.”_ _

__“Gonna hurt.”_ _

__“Uh huh.”_ _

__“You ready?”_ _

__Jamie winces, even though they can’t see him. “A-another minute?”_ _

__“Okay.” Sharpy’s fingers ease, and he pets him again. “That’s fine. You got him, Jason? I gotta get the ribbon out and put clean gloves on.”_ _

__Jamie can hear the snap of the gloves again, and Sharpy rummaging through his kit. Spezza starts petting him and talking again, just as slow and gentle as before, and Jamie is settled back down into his floaty hurty place by the time Sharpy touches him._ _

__He starts out going down the middle, running ribbon back and forth between the two inner columns of rings. Every touch to the rings and every tug of the ribbon sends another little wave of pain through Jamie’s skin, making him shiver and press his face down into his arm, his hips working against the table not in a sexy way, but trying to escape._ _

__“You can take it,” Spezza murmurs, slipping his hand down under Jamie’s chin and pressing his thumb to Jamie’s clenched teeth until he relents and lets it in. Sucking at Spezza’s thumb isn’t really a relief, but he pretends it is, trying to focus on it to the exclusion of what Sharpy’s doing._ _

__The ribbon tugs more, from the bottom, so tension travels through all the rings back to the top. Dimly, Jamie’s aware that Sharpy’s tying it off, but he can’t really picture it through the glowing stinging bursts of pain._ _

__“Next one,” Sharpy says, and starts at the top again, on the left-hand side. Jamie shudders and drags his teeth against Spezza’s thumb, not hard enough to hurt but putting all of his focus onto that. Sharpy finishes the left side and ties it off, does the right side and ties it off, then steps back, and Jamie takes deep, gulping breaths._ _

__“Very good,” Sharpy murmurs. “Hold still now. Spezz, come look.”_ _

__Spezza eases his hand away and walks around the table to stand with Sharpy at Jamie’s feet. “That looks good,” he says after a moment. “It’s a little messy, you should’ve wiped up the blood first. But it looks good.”_ _

__“Everyone’s a critic.” Sharpy pats Jamie’s hip. “Okay, last part, now. Deep breath.”_ _

__Jamie takes a breath and immediately chokes on it as Sharpy takes hold of all the ribbons and pulls down. It’s not a sharp yank, but a slow, steady pull, and maybe that’s even worse. He gasps for breath again and cries out roughly._ _

__“Good boy.” Sharpy lets go and Jamie sags against the table. “Good, good boy. Okay. All done. You took it good.” There’s a pause and then Jamie hears the camera sound again. “You want to see how good you look, Jamie?”_ _

__Jamie nods and waits for them to come help him. This time they get him sitting all the way up, supporting him while he swings his legs over the edge of the table and finds his balance._ _

__“Take a look,” Sharpy says, holding his phone in front of Jamie’s face while Spezz holds him up, letting Jamie lean all of his weight onto him. The picture is nice, set up so Jamie’s torso fills the frame, pale skin and streaks of blood, silver rings and ribbons in black and victory green. The black ribbon is laced between the center columns of rings, with green on either side. They’re laced up neatly, X’s marching up Jamie’s back and crooked bows at the bottom._ _

__“You can’t say you’re not part of the team.” Sharpy’s voice is so gentle, Jamie blinks away tears. “See? You’ve got the team all over your skin.”_ _

__“That’s real dorky, bud,” Spezza says over Jamie’s head._ _

__“Shut up.” Sharpy nudges Jamie’s shoulder. “You feel better?”_ _

__Jamie feels exhausted. And floaty. “Uh.”_ _

__“Yeah, okay. Let’s lie you back down.” They help him back into his face down position. “We’ll get a few more pictures and then let you nap a little.”_ _

__Jamie nods, already closing his eyes. “Okay.”_ _

__One of them tugs at the ribbons, and Jamie shudders at the fresh wave of pain. “Then we’ve gotta take all these out,” Spezza says. “And that’s gonna suck.”_ _

__“Shit,” Jamie mumbles. “Forgot about that part.”_ _

__“We’ll take care of you,” Sharpy assures him. “Shit-ton of ointment, bandage you up, take you out for a milkshake before we dump you on your front porch for Jordie to collect.”_ _

__“You guys suck.” Jamie loves them, though, loves them like he loves hockey and winning and the Texas sky, loves how they both have him figured out. He’s safe here, eyes closed and body loose under their watchful eyes, the canvas they made beautiful._ _


End file.
